On Friday I picked up Erica at work and we discussed our absolutely crazy work weeks, and decided we deserved an ice cream cake. As we were explaining our plans to her coworkers, somebody asked, "Oh, ice cream cake? Whose birthday is it?" Erica and I looked at each other, mouths agape. "It's nobody's birthday, sir. It's Friday night. We have a right to eat cake." On the way home from the grocery store with our little ice cream cake we would devour whole later that night: "I can't believe people don't realize the value of ice cream cake in non-celebratory situations. How can you only eat it when it's someone's birthday?? It's ice cream AND frosting - that in itself deserves celebration enough." Some people.
Ice cream cake consumption via the couch while we caught up on the seemingly infinite amount of television shows on the DVR.
Shows that are way better than Gossip Girl: 90210, Melrose Place, America's Next Top Model, and the video Erica and I made of us eating ice cream cake. Seriously. Erica and I were almost stoked watching it this week because we thought a character finally told the truth. False. He reneged on it and lied in the end anyway. Seriously, everybody but Blair and Chuck should be killed off the show and new characters reinstated. I'd rather watch Annalyne McCord's annoying, awful acting on 90210 over another tv-screen full of Blake Lively's gaping cleavage, which deserves a whole other paycheck because sometimes it's the show's only draw for the masses.
How good is Mad Men this season? Best season yet, I'm calling it.
On Saturday, I managed to come out of my ice-cream-and-tv coma and Jesse arrived from Pittsburgh! Apparently Jake Gyllenhaal was on his flight, but I didn't hold it against him for not starting a life-long friendship with the blue-eyed actor - I was too happy he was home.
Erica and I then met up with Kells and Amber WHO NOW LIVES HERE and we dished the gossip, compared moments in our lives to rom coms which is now a lasting theme, watched a horrifying clip of the week on The Soup (I nearly threw up), expressed our disappointment in some people, and generally cracked up.
Met up with rad friends at Barcelona where Amber and I downed another Top Gun shot in commemoration of our September birthdays. It's absolutely marvelous to have Amber so close after many years, and Saturday night definitely brought together a bunch of great people I love catching up with.
I've had Paramore songs stuck in my head all weekend. Mostly "Brick by Boring Brick," "Looking Up," and "Where the Lines Overlap" from their latest album Brand New Eyes. It's a vast improvement on Riot! - which, I liked, but there were too many skipper songs on it. And the slower, acoustic songs are lovely and non-corny - I dig it!
On Sunday, the 410 trio prepped for FOOTBALL SUNDAY! We went to our usual bar for massive football consumption that included some great games for my fantasy players - and an intense, great Patriots game as they took down the Ravens! (Sorry, Katie.) Tonight I find out my own standings in my matchup with the Minnesota/Green Bay game -- go Green Bay! Don Driver! I hope the Minnesota defense sucks it! (Sorry, Galea.) Fantasy can get really heated, if you couldn't tell. [Note: I wrote most of this post yesterday - I can now tell you that I won this week, though I'm still second in the league simply by two points! ARG!]
I also am officially Jessica Johnson - social security card, driver's license, banks and bills all changed. SUCCESS. Erica witnessed my first credit card signature with the new name, as well.
Sunday night we went to the Fall Out Boy/Blink-182 show at Madison Square Garden. One of the best men at our wedding, Diaz, tours with Fall Out Boy. We had some great seats in the first row to the right of the stage. According to the performers, it was probably the last FOB show for a few years (a la Blink, No Doubt I'm guessing) and at the end Mark Hoppus came out on stage and shaved Pete Wentz's head while Diaz took over for bass on "Saturday." Blink-182 played another solid show, anchored by Barker's amazing flying and spinning drum solo in the encore.
Afterwards, we were in Tom DeLonge's dressing room with a bunch of people and Mischa Barton wandered in with a dazed smile. From observation alone, there really doesn't seem like there's a lot going on up there. Also spotted: John McEnroe, famed tirading tennis player, was a few seats behind us. And Chad Smith, the drummer from the Red Hot Chili Peppers, watched from the sound board and everybody mistook him for Will Ferrell. Literally, I did a twitter search and everyone thought Ferrell was in the audience. But I suppose they're easy to confuse:
Jesse caught up a bit with Mark Hoppus, who produced the forthcoming Motion City album, and then some of the crew and our friends headed to a bar for some more fun. At the end of the night, apartment 410 climbed in a cab and I made everyone early morning grilled cheeses to celebrate the end of a weekend - we didn't have any ice cream cake left.